Paper Dolls
by catswithbenefits
Summary: Locked away in a mental institution, Èponine and Enjolras are deemed criminally insane and unfit for society. Together they feed each other's wildly paranoid delusions and form a plan of escape. (1960s AU)
1. Eponine 1

It's not real; that's what they keep telling her. The consequences are real though, and those are what haunt her most. Capgras Delusion is what they called it back when she was diagnosed a few months ago. It feels like she's stuck in that movie, _The Invasion of the Body Snatchers_. She's been to this hospital before. Same room, same reason. It was her family who made her come the first time. They were terrified. Back then, she'd merely been _saying_ crazy things. A week after her release she started doing them.

Eponine sighs and turns over onto her stomach, pressing her face into the stained pillow. She didn't want to hurt anyone. Her sister is in another hospital with three stab wounds and Eponine is here, swallowing a handful of pills every morning to keep the demons at bay. She still isn't convinced that it was her sister she stabbed. Her eyes were wrong. She'd been replaced. No one believes things like that can happen though, so the court sentenced her with life imprisonment to this institution.

Earlier that day they'd given the mandatory tour. She already knew where everything is from her previous stay, from the cobwebs that littered the ceiling to the stains that marked the awful orange carpet. It was the same as last time. So she watched the newbies instead, trying to figure out what was wrong with them and if they could be of any use to her in the future. If she played her cards right, parole or escape might be in the stars. There was a small boy, a tall man, and a skinny girl. The boy blinked too often, the man kept wringing his hands, and the girl sucked on her limp hair. They were pathetic.

She sits up to the noise of her bedroom door opening. The skinny girl from the tour steps in. "I'm your new roommate?" Eponine nods. She should have expected that she wouldn't be living alone, extra bed in the room and all. "My name's Cosette," the girl extends her hand. Eponine takes it reluctantly.

"Eponine."

"So, what's wrong with you?"

Eponine draws her hand back. "Excuse me?"

"I get visions from God. Sometimes the angels use me as a vessel. The doctors said it was Multiple Personality Disorder, but they're heathens and are going to Hell, so we shouldn't really trust what they say, should we?"

"Um," Eponine edges out of the room._ What a freak!_ She isn't really one for sharing. "I've got to go do something."

The girl nods, oblivious to Eponine's distress at her demeanor. "Alrighty, see you at dinner then!"

Eponine shuts the door quickly and jogs down the hallway. Why would they room her with a girl like _that,_ of all people! She tries to imagine what Cosette might have done to get herself locked away. Arson probably. Religious fanatics are always burning things down. She hopes they wouldn't be together for life. She doesn't want to wake up one night, set aflame.

She heads down the stairwell, stepping on the sides of the wooden steps so that they won't creak so terribly. The boys are housed in the same wing, but on the second floor. The two genders aren't technically supposed to mix, but Eponine can pass as a boy easily enough. All she has to do is hunch her shoulders to hide her chest; the orderlies never look twice. The last time she was here, she'd made friends with a depressed drug addict named Grantaire. She hopes he's still here; she needs someone to talk to. Last time she saw him he was in a real bad way. He might not have made it.

She punches in the code to the second floor corridor, praying that they haven't changed it in her short absence. The light changes to green and there's a soft click of the door unlocking. She opens it, peering around the corner to make sure no one is on the other side of it. The coast is clear. She moves her hair to cover her face and pulls her pants down a little so that the hang like a boy's. A few other crazies pass her but they're too involved with each other to notice that she doesn't belong.

Grantaire's room is the second on the left, and still is according to the chalk board with his schedule posted just outside. He's at therapeutic painting right now. He hates arts and crafts, so he'll probably get sent back early for disorderly conduct. She tries his door, and finds it unlocked. Strange. He was always so concerned about people going through his stuff. He filched a master key and was always very careful about using it so that the other patients couldn't sneak in and steal anything. She hesitates for a moment but goes in anyway and stretches out on his bed. It doesn't smell great, but it's familiar and that's what she needs right now.

Her family has disowned her. This is her life. She feels sick to her stomach about what's happened and what she's done. All she wants is to go home, but it's never going to happen. Even if she did go home, her sister wouldn't be there, and that's what she's really missing. She chews her cheeks. Maybe someday she'll be able to convince them that she isn't nuts. She knows in her heart of hearts that she isn't. If only they could see Azelma's soulless eyes, they might believe her. She hates feeling so helpless. It doesn't suit her.

**A/N Zmori. Go look her up. Send her a heartfelt message. She's my beta and I'd be lost without her grammatical guidance. **


	2. Enjolras 2

It's not real. That's what they keep telling him. They're lying though, and he knows it. He has proof. They say he's delusional, a paranoid conspiricist. They tell him he has schizophrenia and that everything about his life is a hallucination. They tell him they can help him.

Enjolras walks unescorted to his designated room. They can't help him. There's nothing wrong with him. He pushes open the door. There's a thin boy laying on an unmade bed. Neither acknowledge each other, and he likes it that way. No need to get attached to people when he'll be leaving soon.

He sits on his own bare mattress and proceeds to take off his shoes. He refuses to attend the art sessions. If he can help it, he won't attend any of the sessions. He doesn't need therapy. He needs to get out. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor startles the boy into consciousness.

"R?" It's a feminine voice. Enjolras' roommate brushes the hair from his face to reveal full lips and wide eyes.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I must be in the wrong room," Enjolras mutters, flustered by his mistake, trying to get his shoes back on the right feet. He glances up at her again to find her watching him curiously. That's when he realizes he's seen her before, at orientation. "Eponine, right?" She makes no movement to assure him that that is in fact her name. "Okay, bye then."

He checks the name board outside the room before wandering off in search of an orderly. He could have sworn they had told him room 2003! Just as he thought it would be, his name is posted on the bulletin alongside a schedule which consists mostly of therapeutic exercises. He poked his head back in the door again. "Aren't you a girl?" Eponine nods condescendingly as if that should be obvious to him. "Isn't this the men's ward?" She nods again.

What sort of game is she playing at? "You're in my room."

"I'm in Grantaire's room," she corrects, finally offering some sort of explanation. Enjolras narrows his eyes at her. What if she's a spy, sent to ensure his arrival and the security of his prison? What if she's an assassin? "You're welcome to stay too, if you like."

"What are you doing here?" He asks, getting straight to the point. If she's lying, he'll be able to tell.

"Waiting for your roommate."

"That's not allowed."

"So?" she crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you planning on ratting me out?"

He shrugs and removes his shoes once again. She isn't an immediate threat, and if she isn't a spy then it could be useful to have some favors owed in the future. "I haven't decided yet."

"How generous."

"I don't see why I shouldn't."

"I don't see why you should."

"You could be dangerous," he suggests. The look on her face tells him that she thinks he's being sarcastic.

"I could be."

"That's generally what people get locked up in here for."

"Does that mean you're dangerous then?" Her voice still rings with confidence, but he can see her shrink back a little at the notion.

"Only if you provoke me into action," he nods at her, "And you?"

Eponine looks up and to the right. "Gentle as a pussycat."

"If you're going to lie, at least put some effort into it," he chastises, pulling a starchy fitted sheet over his mattress. She sticks her tongue out at him. "Do we get any blankets?" he asks, looking under his bed and in the wardrobe.

"You can ask Joly for some. He's usually pretty good about distributing them to those in need."

"Joly?"

"He's one of the orderlies on your floor."

"How do you know that?"

Eponine shrugs, continuing in her previous pattern of not giving away any pertinent information. The girl is frustrating as hell. Can't she just give him a straight answer for once? There's the sound of a key being fit into a lock which makes both turn to see who might enter next. A squat man with a brown mop of hair stumbles in. Paint covers him from his finger tips to his elbows. There's a few splotches on his face, probably from touching it with his paint laden hands. He looks tired, as if he could fall over any second. As soon as he sees Eponine though, he perks right up and rushes to her, wrapping her in a giant bear hug. When they part, her back and cheeks are coated with his paint.

"I'm so happy to see you!" She squeaks, her excitement causing her voice to crack.

Grantaire holds her at arms' length and feigns disappointment at her arrival. "What the hell are you doing here, kiddo?! I thought you were going back home!"

So, she used to live here before. This intrigues Enjolras. He wonders what she might have done to have landed herself in this hellhole multiple times.

"I did, I did! Some, uh, some stuff happened though," she glances over Grantaire's shoulder at Enjolras, clearly made uncomfortable by his presence. "It's not a big deal. I'm going to be staying a lot longer this time though."

"How long?" Grantaire sits on the bed, but keeps a hold of Eponine's hands as if he's afraid she'll vanish if he lets go.

Dependency issues, Enjolras decides quickly. From the state of the man's skin and the bags under his eyes he probably depends on a lot more than other people.

"I don't really know yet." Grantaire nods for her to go on, but instead she bites her lip and breathes deeply before turning to face Enjolras. "Do you mind? We're trying to have a private conversation."

"By all means, continue."

Grantaire shakes his head. "What's your name?"

"Enjolras."

"Hey, Enjy-can I call you Enjy? Enjy, if we're going to be mates you've gotta follow the room rules. The first rule is that you can't repeat anything that's said in here and the second is that if you don't follow the first rule, you're going to wish you had."

"Sounds fair enough."

"So, why don't you know how long you're staying for?" Grantaire asks, directing his attention back to Eponine. She spares Enjolras another glance, still unsure of him. "It's fine. He agreed to the rules. Now, spill!" He touches a painted hand to her cheek to bring her focus back to him.

"I'm here for life, R," she admits, voice shaking. "You know what happens to lifers."

"Green Door. Room 4042," he says solemnly.

"I can't let that happen to me. I need to escape before it comes to that. Will you help me?"

The word _escape_ perks Enjolras' ears right up. Escape is his plan as well. If Eponine turns out to be a trustworthy person, he thinks, maybe he can coerce her into aiding him. Lord knows there are people watching his every move as it is. He is going to need help if he wants to pull this off successfully, however slight that help might be.

"Of course I'll help you."

"And you'll you come with me?"

The question gives Grantaire pause. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Enjolras smells a lie, but doesn't say anything. If he wants Eponine to cooperate with him, he'll need her to want her freedom back as much as he does.

**A/N: ZZZZZZZZMori. Best Beta Ever? Answer: yes. Guys, I really don't think you understand how great she is.**


	3. Eponine 3

If you have rice, you have everything; at least that's how the motto goes at St. Dymphna's Mental Institution. Eponine scraps her last spoonful of burnt rice into her mouth, swallowing quickly so that she doesn't have to taste it.

"I see their cooking hasn't improved since I was away," she comments, pushing her tray aside.

"I don't know what you were expecting," Grantaire takes a few stray grains of rice from her plate and pops them in his mouth, ravenous as ever. "State doesn't exactly want to give it's tax dollars to the criminally insane."

Eponine sighs and leans back in her plastic chair, cracking her back as she does so. "Didn't anyone ever tell them man cannot live on rice alone?"

"Looks like the new kid feels the same as you do." Grantaire points to his roommate, who is sitting alone absent mindedly stirring his food around. "Hey, Enjy!"

"Ohmygod, shut up!" Eponine pulls Grantaire's waving arm down. "I don't want him to sit here!"

Grantaire shakes her off and motions for Enjolras to come over again. "Don't be mean! He's my new roomy! Besides, I don't want him to just throw his food out like I know he will. "

"He's weird!" Eponine starts to get up to leave but Grantaire gives her a look that makes her sit back down.

"_You're_ weird. Now, stay put. We need to make nice with him." Eponine is about to protest, but Enjolras pulls out a chair beside her.

"Is it always this bad?" he asks, dropping his plate carelessly in the middle of the table.

"Nah," Grantaire takes Enjolras' tray from him and starts to eat it without asking. "Sometimes it's worse."

"Oh." He stares at his now empty tray with a look of longing for the rice he never ate. It would have been his only meal of the day, as they missed breakfast due to their lice showers.

"Did you want to go to chapel with 'Ponine and I?"

"_R!_" Eponine hissed as a warning. Chapel was their thing. Letting the new guy in would ruin it.

"I'm not really the praying type."

"Neither am I. This place gets pretty crazy after dinner though."

"I see," he glances at Eponine, aware that his participation will bother her. "And what do we do at chapel?"

"Well, I like to steal candles and matches, and Eponine likes to flirt with Father Marius."

Eponine kicks Grantaire under the table. "We're going to have an initiation ceremony tonight. To see if you're trustworthy," she amends. If the new guy is coming, she's going to get something out of him.

"You can trust me. I don't see why I need to prove myself to you. Actually, how can I know that _I_ can trust _you_? It's a two way street, you know."

"You already agreed to the rules," Grantaire says, going along with Eponine's impromptu plan. "This is the final step into joining our brotherhood."

"What if I don't want to be in your stupid brotherhood?"

"Then you can eat by yourself for the rest of your life."

"I can make other friends," he says, pushing away from the table so quickly that his chair squeaks on the linoleum flooring.

"Who? Them?" Eponine motions to the tables nearest them. Most of the inmates are wearing bibs or shoveling rice into their mouths with their bare hands. A few are staring off listlessly into space, a result of their medication. "Hate to break it to you, but the people here are crazy." She doesn't want the man hanging out with her and R, but it's insulting for him to think that he can do better than them.

Enjolras huffs. "What do you want me to do then?"

"The communion wine," Grantaire answers quickly before Eponine can. "You need to steal the communion wine."

"I don't drink."

"I do. So does Eponine. We need to make a toast to you joining our group."

"Fine. Where do I find this wine?"

"We'll show you. First we need to take our meds though." They all stand up.

"Medication? I haven't been assigned anything yet."

"It doesn't matter," Eponine says, leading the way to the nurses' station. "We all take sedatives. Don't swallow them. Hide them in your cheek." She reaches the counter and leans against it casually. "Hey, Joly. Nice to see you!"

"Ms. Thenardier. I thought you'd be back. Still talking to the boys are we?" Joly hands Eponine a little paper cup with pills in it. It's frowned upon for the two genders to intermingle. The criminally insane don't usually make for very good parents.

"Come on, Joly. Be cool." Eponine sticks her tongue out to show that she's swallowed her pills. As soon as her back is turned, she spits them out and crushes them underfoot. Grantaire follows suit. Next is Enjolras. He takes the cup calmly, but Eponine can tell he's nervous. What a wimp. She and Grantaire are halfway down the hall by the time he catches up with them.

"I, uh, I couldn't do it," he calls out after them.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Eponine tilts her head back and laughs.

"I wanted to! I tried to put them in my cheek, but they melted in my mouth and he could tell."

"Rookie mistake."

"How do you do it then?"

"Make it through initiation and I'll tell you." Eponine refuses to let him in on any of her trade secrets before he's an official Brother.

Enjolras groans. "This is so dumb."

"You're dumb."

"Okay, shut up you guys," Grantaire takes hold of one of the chapel doors. "Let's make this quick. I wanna get back before head check."

"Wait, what's our plan?" Enjolras hisses, trailing behind the two. Eponine elbows him in the ribs.

"Figure it out! The communion wine is behind the alter. R and I will take care of the rest." She can see him swallow hard. Why should he be so scared of something so simple? She hopes he gets caught so that R will see he isn't worth their time. Knowing him though, he'll go soft on the boy and let him in anyhow. He's like that.

She watches Enjolras stand awkwardly against the back wall, presumably scoping the room out. He spots the exits quickly, as if he's been in the chapel previously. Then he moves on to the room's occupants. He observes each one momentarily, eyes lingering on those who are more dangerous. His eyes skim right over Father Marius. Eponine chews her lip._ How is he doing it?_ Nevermind. She'll worry about him later. Father Marius is where her attention needs to be.

Like the minx she wishes she was, she shuffles over to the confession booth, extra sway in her hips. The echos of her loose slippers slapping against the stone floor makes him look up. She does her best to smile flirtatiously, but falters when she sees his disappointed expression. "Hey, Father! Fancy seeing you here!" Her voice is too loud.

"Eponine. I thought you'd left us." She sidles up to his bench, pulling back the curtain a bit so that she can see him better.

"I did. The outside world couldn't handle me though, so they put me back here."

"And your affliction...?"

Eponine blushes slightly. His reminder of her insanity hurts. What could he possibly see in a crazy woman? "Oh, you know. I take it by day. It's not so bad anymore. The rosary you gave me really seems to help when I start to feel anxious."

"That's good to hear. And your family? How are they taking everything?"

"They, uh," she looks back towards Enjolras. He's creeping along the wall, pausing nonchalantly periodically to sit in a pew. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Me, or God?"

"Both?" she scratches her head. What's the difference?

"Well, you should really talk to your therapist if you have any personal issues that you need advice on. I can only tell you what the bible says to help you cope with your situation."

"I wanted to know if I could be forgiven for what I've done."

"My dear child," he takes one of her hands in his, sending a jolt through her body. "God always forgives. What is the sin that you wish to confess?" Eponine starts to answer, but Marius interrupts her. "Wait! Take a seat in the booth. It isn't proper for us to talk about private matters publicly."

She reluctantly sits on the bench adjacent to his, frustrated to be separated from him by a wall. Before she pulls her curtain closed, she sees Enjolras duck behind the alter. In a few minutes he'll have the wine and they'll have to leave. She might not see Marius for another week. These last few minutes have to count.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," she states, starting off her confession the way he taught her. "My sister, she was taken."

"What do you mean by taken?"

"She was taken, and then they replaced her with someone who looks like her."

"I see."

"She was a robot. No one believed me, so I stabbed her so that they could see the wires on the inside." Eponine waits for Marius to respond, but he doesn't. "She wasn't a robot though, she was a human, and she started bleeding all over the floor. I think-" She closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath. "I think I might have killed her. No one will tell me anything."

"Are you asking forgiveness for stabbing your sister?"

"She wasn't my sister."

"You said she was human though?"

Eponine pulls back a wooden panel that divides her from the Father. "She wasn't my sister though. I know my sister. They replaced her with another human."

"Child-"

"I want forgiveness for whatever it is that I've done that I'm being punished for. First it was my brother, and now Azelma? I don't understand. Why do they keep taking people from me?" She rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I pray every night, Father. Why won't this stop? What does God want from me?"

"Um, hold on." She can hear the rustling of pages as he flips through a bible. "Just let me find a passage."

A hairy hand pulls back her curtain. Grantaire nods towards the exit and holds out a hand to help her up off the bench. She looks to Father Marius, whose is buried deep in the golden leafed pages of the good book. Secretly, she hopes he notices her leaving and catches them. He won't, and he doesn't and she knows that even if he did see her leave he would be too flustered to do anything about it. So she lets R guide her back to the second floor Boys' Dormitory where Enjolras is waiting impatiently with a bottle of wine tucked under his shirt.

**A/N: Zmori is my babymomma. I would give her my kidneys, you guys. She's literally the hardest working beta in the history of betas. **


	4. Enjolras 4

Enjolras' chest is still heaving from the exertion of running up two flights of stairs. Adrenaline still pumps through his veins from the thrill of nearly being caught each time he turned a corner. He hadn't expected to be charged to the brim with exhilaration after committing such an foolhardy act, and he hides it with deep shame. Stealing the wine was stupid. He shouldn't get a kick out of it.

Grantaire unlocks the door and ushers them in. "Come on, come on, come on," he begs, sitting on his bed and holding out his hand expectantly for the wine. Enjolras lifts his state-issued shirt and gives it to him before kicking back on his own bed.

"I hope it tastes like it was worth it."

Grantaire takes a sip and nods, passing it over to Eponine. "It tastes like those twelve steps never happened."

Eponine holds it out for Enjolras. "Chug-a-lug, Brother."

"I told you, I don't drink."

She shakes it a little in his face. "Just a few sips. I want to make sure you don't use this little venture to blackmail us in the future."

He takes the bottle from her, if only to make her stop waving it around. "I won't blackmail you."

"Then drink up!"

Grantaire slaps his knees lightly, quietly chanting '_drink, drink, drink, drink_'. Sighing loudly, Enjolras tips his head back and pretends to swallow a huge mouthful before passing it back to Grantaire. The man accepts it gratefully and drinks more than his fair share in a single gulp. Eponine pays him no mind, instead staring smugly towards Enjolras.

"Can I help you?"

"You are the worst faker I've ever seen in the history of faking," she announces, joining him on his bed. "No wonder Joly caught you."

"Excuse me?"

"R?" He passes her the last of the wine. She frowns. "Seriously? You and I were going to split this!"

"My half was on the bottom," he mumbles, pulling his blankets around him. She rolls her eyes and turns back to Enjolras.

"Watch carefully." She lifts the bottle to her lips and points to her throat. "Did you see?"

Enjolras purses his lips uncomfortably. "Is this really that important?"

"It is if you don't want to end up like this asshole," she says, gesturing to Grantaire. He's half-asleep and staring at the wall. "He can't sleep without the pills anymore. Sometimes he makes me give him mine too."

"He took sedatives and then drank half a bottle of wine? Aren't there directions advising against that on the bottles?"

"There comes a point where you just stop caring about what happens to you."

Enjolras eyes the bottle of wine and wonders when that day will come for him. "How do you do it then? With the pills, I mean." She opens her mouth wide and points to her back teeth.

"Right in this little pocket. If you need to take more than three pills though, it's not going to work."

Enjolras sticks his tongue in the spot experimentally. "What should I do if I need to take more than three pills?"

"Then you're actually crazy, and you should take your pills."

"Oh," he takes the bottle and pretends to sip from it.

"Better. It'll get easier the more you do it."

Enjolras presses the back of his head to the wall and lets Eponine finish off the bottle. "I don't plan on getting better at it, I plan on getting out of here."

"That's going to take some time and planning. I don't know about you, but there's some pretty freaky shit in the outside world too."

Enjolras gives her a look. He thought she wanted to escape. Is she changing her mind?

"Don't get me wrong, being put in here is complete BS, and I want to leave as soon as I can, but for now I'm safe from..." she waves her hand around, as if expecting him to understand. He sort of does. For now, no one is trying to actively kill him. It's a nice break. It can't last though. He has work to do.

"What did you do," he asks, "to make them lock you up here?" Part of him knows she'll only avoid his questions, but he can't help but try to sate his curiosity.

"Nothing."

"They don't put people in here for doing 'nothing'."

"They think I did something, but they're wrong." She plays with the frayed hem of her shirt. "I know I'm not crazy."

"What do they think you did?"

"You first."

"What?" He sits up a little straighter.

"You show me yours, I show you mine. That's how this works."

"No, I asked you first. If we're going to play trust games, you have to start taking risks too."

She chews her lip, considering his proposition. "I swear to god, if you tell R any of this I'll make you regret it." From the look in her eyes, he doesn't doubt it.

"Likewise."

"For a few months now," she breathes out heavily, taking a fistful of blankets in either on of her hands, "um, I don't know how to explain this without sounding really dumb. It started with my little brother. He would... leave? Yeah, I guess he left. Or he was taken. I don't really know how it works." Enjolras nods along, even though she isn't making any sense. "It was hard to tell at first, but after a while it was really obvious. I don't know why no one else could see it. I guess it's because I was the closest to him. Anyway, my brother was gone, and someone else was there instead."

"A replacement?" he can see where the story is going. It's way too familiar.

"I 'spose. I don't know if they replaced all of him, or just his soul, but he wasn't there anymore. It started off as just being for a few hours or days, but then it got longer and I didn't know what to do. I thought maybe he was still inside his body somewhere and there was just another soul inside him that was pressing him down, so I cut him to see if I could make him wake up. He didn't, and they put me in here."

"How long are you here for then?" He remembers her telling Grantaire earlier that she was going to be locked up for quite some time. It doesn't seem proportionate for such a small act.

"That was the first time," she admits shyly. "When I got out, my sister was gone too. They decided I wasn't well enough to participate in society, so they locked me up again."

"Wow," he runs a hand through his hair. It was a curious story.

"You think I'm dumb, right? I know I'm not crazy. I just don't know how to show other people what's going on. They don't know my siblings like I do. It's hard to prove that they've been changed."

"No, no. It makes perfect sense actually."

"Don't patronize me," she says, rolling her eyes. Abruptly, she gets up and starts pacing. The movement makes her a little blurry and it's hard for him to focus. The sedatives must finally be kicking in. "I know that it sounds unlikely, but it's real. I know it's real. I saw it. I just need a way to prove it. If I can find out _why_ it's happening-"

"Eponine, I get it. I really do. I believe you."

She stops pacing. "I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I'm not. I'm here for the same reason."

"Who did they take from you?" she eyes Grantaire as if she's afraid he'll be next.

"It wasn't like that exactly. I- uh-" he stutters, unsure of how much to share. She could be intercepted at anytime and tortured for questioning. The less she knows, the better. "See, there's this underground organization. They wear green ties so that they can recognize one another. It's sort of like a gang color I guess. The Cuban missile crisis last year was a hoax-" Eponine isn't listening, instead she's tucking Grantaire in properly so that he won't roll off the bed in the middle of the night. "Anyway, they can do things. The U.S. government contacted me to help them crack some coded messages."

"Whose coded messages?"

"The Russians. Eponine, did you ever hear about the experiments the Nazis did during the holocaust?"

"Yeah?" She takes her place next to him once more.

"The Russians confiscated a lot of that information. They know things. They know how to do things. They're still carrying out some of the experiments."

"I thought they were just testing the limits of the human body."

"They were, but they also wanted to make super humans and find a way to their race the most superior."

"_What?_"

"Eponine, what you're describing is incredibly real and incredibly possible. I've read about it."

"So, what did you do then? To end up in here?"

"The Russians found out about me. Obviously they wanted me dead. They've been trying to terminate me ever since. A few months ago I was caught trying to poison a green-tied man's drink at a party. The police never even questioned him. I wouldn't doubt they're in on the whole thing. There are sleeper spies planted all over this country, you know. "

"So, what's their endgame?"

"To overthrow the government, of course. And if that doesn't work, to blow us off the face of the planet."

Eponine whistles. "We've gotta get out of here." There's a knock on the door and then the sound of a key being inserted into the lock. "Shit. What time is it?" There's no clock in the room, Enjolras observes, so it's a pointless question. An orderly opens the door.

"Head check," he calls out. It's Joly, the nurse who gave Enjolras the sedatives. "Eponine. You've only just got here. Don't start this again already." She's sitting only a few inches from Enjolras, the space between them could certainly be construed as suspicious. Enjolras scooches away.

"My roommate is psycho," Eponine complains. "I can't stay with her."

"Well, you can't stay in here. You're lucky it's me doing the rounds here tonight. Or haven't you had enough solitary confinement?"

"Joly-"

"Please Eponine, I don't want to get in trouble. If you go now, you can still make it to your room before the other nurse finds you missing." Eponine pouts but still gets up without another word of complaint. Enjolras watches her go. "You'd best avoid her if you know what's good for you," Joly tells him when she's gone. He nods, but the advice is falling on deaf ears. There is no one more spectacularly singular than Eponine, and he intends on seeking her out at every possible turn.

* * *

**A/N: Zmori. Best Beta ever. Ok? You go read her stuff. Now. Stop reading this dumb story and check her out. Send her a nice message saying something like "yo, you the best, home girl. Keep yo head up." **


	5. Eponine Enjolras 5

Arms crossed, slight slouch, fire in her eyes. Eponine is the picture of a person who will not cooperate. It's evaluation day, and she intends for this round to go better than the last one. The first time they'd sent her to a psychiatrist named Dr. Valjean. He was an absolute joke. He was soft and didn't probe much. It lulled her into a false sense of security, wherein she felt comfortable to spill her heart out. He'd responded by doping her up on every medication under the sun, electroconvulsive therapy included. She thought he'd sympathize with her and help her get down to the root of her problems, but instead he labelled her madder than a hatter.

Because she's officially a criminal, an almost-murderer or and actual murderer, she's been sent to someone else. Doctor Javert. This time she isn't going to mess up.

"Welcome back, Eponine Thenardier." he says, opening her file. She slouches further in her chair and stares at the wood panelling, refusing to make eye contact. "Evidently our treatments didn't help you last time."

"Evidently," she mutters.

"Tell me about what happened."

She shifts her eyes and gives him her best glare. He's unfazed. "I stabbed my sister."

He scribbles something on a piece of paper as if what she's said is new information. "Why?"

"Because I'm crazy. Didn't you read my file?"

"Why did you stab your sister?" Eponine looks at her nails. They're bit to the quick. "If you do not answer the question, you will be sent to solitary."

"Is she dead?"

Javert writes something else on his pad. "I'm not aware. Why did you stab her?"

"She ate some food I was saving without asking. Can you find out if she's dead or not?" Javert writes some more without looking up at her. "Hey!" she kicks his desk to get his attention. He looks up at her with pursed lips.

"Stop. If you do not cooperate, we cannot help you. You are capable of communicating, so do so or there will be consequences. Why did you stab your sister?"

"She came at me sideways. I told her to get bent and she got mad. It was self-defense."

"I see," He steeples his fingers and looks at her wearily. "We've had next to no trouble with you in the past. There are four counts against you from previously for fraternizing with the opposite sex and two for refusing medication. I think it would be good for you to continue with your electroconvulsive therapy as well as talking to a therapist thrice weekly. Your medications will start up again from where you left off on your last visit, and if no improvements are found at your next check up the dosage will be altered. Do you have any questions?"

"Is my sister dead?"

"Eponine, I speak with you as frankly as I do because I can tell you are an intelligent young lady and can comprehend the gravity of your crimes and illness. Your sister suffered multiple stab wounds between her ribs. Clearly you intended for her to die. You will never see from or hear of her again while your stay is maintained at this facility. For all intents and purposes, she is dead whether she is or is not. You are clear of mind and you know what you have done, yet you do not show any signs of remorse. As a sociopath, the answer to the question you ask is hardly relevant and if you do not seek the answer for peace of mind, then you must have ulterior motives for wanting the information. If you are found continuing to seek this information you will have to undergo further treatments for your and your fellow patients safety, which is a thing I am sure you would rather dislike. Do I make myself clear?"

The people who undergo further treatments for the sake of safety came back changed beyond recognition. They had no ambitions and couldn't think critically. Most of all, it took the completely unglued and made them into complacent zombies. Undergoing further treatments would spell the end to her escape plans. "Loud and clear, dove. Can I go to breakfast now?"

His frown deepens when she called him 'dove', but he ignores it and dismisses her with a wave of his hand. She stalks out, head down, new plans already forming. If Javert won't tell her what she needs to know, she'll have to look elsewhere. Maybe Enjolras has connections to the outside world? He told her he had contact with the government. If she plays it cool with him, he could probably find out if her sister is okay or not. Suddenly she doesn't hate Grantaire so much for dragging him into their group.

* * *

Not that he wants the company, but Enjolras wishes Grantaire were with him to show him what to do. The room is abuzz with the other mental patients and he isn't sure what the purpose of being set loose in the common room is. He takes a seat in a chair with springs poking out of it and stares at the low-res television. A few patients sit around him playing a card game, but the longer he watches he comes to realize that they're each playing their own game with their own set of rules. A fight breaks out between the players about cheating. He's about to get up and sit somewhere else when a heavy hand claps onto his shoulder.

"New guy, right?"

Enjolras stands and faces the other patient to assert his dominance. He's heard stories about prison hierarchies. Becoming someone's bitch is not something on his list of things to do before he breaks out. A squat man with patchy hair and large spectacles stands beside a lanky boy with a mass of curls that could swallow a hairbrush.

"I'm Combeferre, and this is Courfeyrac." Combeferre smiles invitingly and extends his hand.

"Enjolras," he shakes Combeferre's hand warily.

"We should probably take this party elsewhere," Courfeyrac suggests, gesturing to the card players. The deck is strewn about the carpet and mittened hands are raised in preparation for a slap fight. He leads them away and out of doors to a basketball court. There's a deflated ball near the hoop. No one's played out here for at least a year. Enjolras stays near the door in case he should require a quick escape from these two.

"We saw you talking with Eponine," Combeferre starts.

"What a fox!" Courfeyrac adds, earning a stern glare from Combeferre.

"We want to know what she told you." Enjolras reaches behind him for the door handle. Combeferre and Courfeyrac vaguely resemble Russian spies he was trying to take out before he got locked up here. "We know she's planning an escape. We want in."

"I don't trust you," Enjolras said plainly. It was obvious enough by his stance that he wanted to leave. He might as well let them know where they stood with him.

"Listen, let me give you the skinny of what goes on here," Courfeyrac sat down on the pavement in an attempt to show Enjolras he meant no harm. "There's this room. Fourth floor, big green door at the end of the hall. People go in and they don't come out. You spend enough time in here, eventually you pay a visit to the room."

"Are you talking about electroconvulsive therapy?"

"Nah, man, that's fourth floor red door. You go into the green door and zap. Zot. You're finished. Capice? Combeferre and I have been here longer than most. Our day is coming. We've tried to change facilities, but the shrinks aren't having any of it. We need to leave soon or else we're goners."

Combeferre nods emphatically. "What happens when you go through the green doors? Do they kill you?" Enjolras sits on the pavement as well. "The judge gave me a life sentence, not a death sentence. They can't do that."

"Sometimes they kill people. Sometimes they steal their souls."

Enjolras squints. "Are you trying to have a laugh at me?"

"No, I'm serious! They do something to people in there! They come back with their head all bandaged up and when they're all healed up they're total spacemen eating grapes off the wallpaper."

Courfeyrac pulls his knees up to his chest. "The way I see it, we got a few more weeks until that's us. We're long past due for a check up."

"I'm not saying that we're planning an escape," Enjolras looks around to make sure no one in the yard is paying attention to their group. "But if I find a way to keep you from going into the green room I'll let you know."

"What do you want from us in return? We don't have any green, but we can offer services."

Enjolras waves Combeferre off. "I'll let you know when the time comes. I don't need anything right now."

They all stand up. "Hey, um if you don't mind me asking," Courfeyrac says, dusting himself off, "You seem, I don't know? Real? You're really present. I thought that it was going to be a lot harder to talk to you."

"That's because there's nothing wrong with me. You seem pretty present yourself. Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"

Combeferre laughs. "Well there's definitely something wrong with Courf. He set the giant Christmas tree in his town's square on fire last year just to see the pretty colors."

"_What?_"

Courfeyrac shoves his friend playfully. "It wasn't _just_ for the pretty colors. The mayor was getting out of work. I thought it would impress her. She called the fuzz instead though."

"I'm lost," Enjolras admits. He's starting to wish he had never asked. These people should definitely not be set loose on the world. Green door or not, he would never let them leave the institute.

"The mayor and I were having a secret tryst and she ended it because her husband was going to find out. Went kind of far though. Getting a guy locked up isn't very nice. I thought she loved me."

Combeferre shakes his head. "It's a healthy mix of pyromania and erotomania. He sets fires to feel good and impress people he's deluded himself into believing love him."

"Why are we even friends? When you tell it like that it makes me sound unstable!"

"I suffer from epilepsy, panic attacks, and trichotillomania. My parents shut me up here because they didn't want to deal with my problems anymore."

"What are you going to do when you two get out then? It doesn't sound like you have anywhere to go."

"We've got friends who'll take us in for a while. Once all the hullabaloo wears down we'll go out and get jobs."

"And what about your medications?"

"Courf and I have been getting a stockpile going since we were first admitted. We've got enough to last us at least six months. Alls we need is a way to get out."

"I'll see what I can do then." Enjolras leaves the yard for the common room, neither man following him. He doesn't know if they're trying to play a game with him, messing with him because he's the new guy. Or maybe they're truly untrustworthy and dangerous and he shouldn't look twice at them lest they shank him in his sleep. It's hard to know with the people around here. He decides to consult Eponine before taking further action. He looks around the common room, but she still isn't there. Grantaire was missing when he woke up and he didn't see Eponine at breakfast. He swallows hard. Maybe they were taken to the green room as a result of last nights events? Or worse, maybe they found a way to escape already and left him behind.

**A/N: Zmori is a beta reader and she is my beta reader and I swear to god, this story would be so hard for you to read without her. You have this story's readability thanks to her and spell check. Keep them in your prayers tonight. **


	6. Enjolras 6

**A/N: shout out to my beta-reader, Zmori! Guys, she is the greatest person in the entire world and edited every chapter without even DocX to help. Okay? An errors you find are my own, she's worked so hard on finding my mistakes I really can't praise her work enough!**

The sun is setting by the time Eponine comes stumbling into the common room, Grantaire resting heavily on her while she practically carries him. Enjolras rushes to them to help shoulder the weight. Together they lead him to the chair Enjolras first sat in when he came to the room.

"Where were you guys? What happened?"

Eponine shakes her head. "Red door. They found the bottle from last night under his bed during a room search."

"Red door...Electroconvulsive therapy? How did they know the bottle was his and not mine?"

Eponine doesn't answer, instead she gives a stern look to the mental patients who've gathered around them to listen. "Beat it! This isn't about you!" When they won't leave, she picks up a discarded deck from the floor and throws it at them. "Scram!" They slink away, some of them howling. On the other side of the room Enjolras spots Combeferre and Courfeyrac watching him expectantly.

"Enjolras, he's here for addiction. If they find illegal contraband in your room, they're always going to blame him."

"I see," he pushes back a few of the man's dark locks to inspect the burns on his temples. "This can't be legal."

"Who cares if it's legal? We're here because we're criminals. They can do whatever they want to us. No one cares." She squats so that she's eye level with Grantaire. "Hey, R. Do you need some water?" He shakes his head weakly and lets it loll to the side. "Do you remember our names?"

"'Course, Ponine. I'm just tired. Do you think- do you think you could talk to Joly for me?"

"Sure. What do you want me to say?"

"I know he's the only reason they haven't taken me through the green door yet. I'm ready now. I just want this to be done. It's not like they can cure what's ailing me," he says all of this very labouriously as if his tongue is too heavy.

"Don't be dumb. You've been through way worse than what happened today. When I first saw you, you had a broken nose and were missing three teeth. This isn't even comparable!"

"Nose is still broke and I'm still missing those teeth," he smiles a little to show off his missing teeth. Sure enough, there's a large gap on the right side of his upper jaw. Enjolras wonders how he missed that. Observation is his specialty. "I'm serious though, 'Ponine. It's too hard and I'm too tired. I can't do it anymore."

Eponine closes her eyes tightly and hugs herself. Enjolras is too startled to speak. Abruptly, Eponine's face is alit with artificial happiness. She takes Grantaire's hands and gives him a tug. "I love this song! It was playing when we met, remember? You promised you'd teach me how to swing dance." Enjolras can barely make out the faint elevator music through the din of the other mental patients. It's the same song that's been playing all day long.

"Stop it."

"Please?" She pouts childishly.

"I just want to sit."

"You're such a good dancer though. You can sit when you've gone through your green door treatment." She pulls on him once more, his resolve visibly weakening. With great difficulty, he gets to his feet and pulls Eponine into a dancing position. "You clap, Enjolras, okay?"

"What?"

"To keep us in step. Clap to the beat."

"Um-" she cuts him off with her signature stern glare. He supposes looking like a fool in front of the other patients isn't that bad. It's not as if their opinions matter. Grantaire looks like he's going to faint. He starts clapping without much regard to rhythm, glancing back to see if Combeferre and Courfeyrac are still watching. They are.

"Alright, un, deux, trois," she counts, staring at her feet. Grantaire waltzes her about in tight circle. "I'm going to spin you, ready?" He groans, but allows himself to be spun, his groan turning into a smile mid-turn.

"Your turn then." He twirls Eponine expertly. No one notices when Enjolras stops clapping.

"Do the thing, do the thing!" Grantaire sighs and dips her, then lets go of one of her hands so that she can spin about wildly. She doesn't see it, but he's smiling while she does.

"Can you show me how to swing now?" She holds onto Grantaire while she tries to regain her sense of balance.

"Do you promise not to kick me?"

"I swear on my father's life!" They both laugh at that, though Enjolras doesn't understand why. Grantaire is perspiring from the effort of standing. Gently, Enjolras takes his elbow. He leans into it instantly, his own weight having become unbearable.

"Maybe we should stop for now." Before they can set Grantaire back in his armchair a low tone sounds from a speaker mounted on the wall. Most of the mental patients get up immediately, running from the room. "What was that?"

"It's dinner. Thank god. I missed breakfast because I had an evaluation with this chicken-head of a shrink."

They each put an arm around Grantaire and lead him to the cafeteria. Almost as soon as they set him down, Joly approaches. Grantaire nudges Eponine and she pretends not to notice.

"Ms. Thernardiar! I've been meaning to speak with you!" Joly looks nervously at Enjolras.

"He's cool."

"It's time for your check up. Could you meet me when you're done eating?"

_Check up? _Enjolras thinks, _Didn't she just_ have_ her evaluation?_ "Eponine?" She shrugs Enjolras off.

"I'll be there with bells on, Joly."

"Eponine."

"What?"

He gestures to Joly, who's walking away.

"It's nothing." They grab their food, an extra bowl for Grantaire.

"Nothing?"

"_Nothing._" She reassures him, setting her bowl down hard.

"What'd Joly want?" Grantaire asks, accepting his portion of rice from Enjolras.

Eponine sighs heavily. "_Absolutely nothing. _Drop it you guys."

"He told her it was time for a check-up." Eponine kicks Enjolras under the table.

"You still go to those things?" Grantaire is incredulous.

"Both of you are so nosey." She shakes her spoon at them.

Grantaire looks to Enjolras who is still hopelessly confused. "Joly tests medication on her. Don't tell anyone." With a loud bang, Eponine slaps her own forehead. "Can't we keep some things to ourselves? You don't need to be his little rat."

"Joly and I go way back," Grantaire continues, heedless of Eponine's pleas for silence. " Even before the institution. He's always wanted to test medication on women, so he uses Eponine as his test subject. In return, she gets to break the rules and gets extra blankets and soup. Anything to make her comfortable so that the medicine can work to its full effect, right Ep?"

"They don't test medication on women?"

Eponine sits up a little and shoves rice angrily into her mouth. "No," she says, speaking through the rice. "They're afraid our monthly cycle will mess the results up."

"What happens when women take medication then? The side effects would be unpredictable."

"That's where Eponine comes in." Grantaire says with a fake smile. It seems he's grown to disapprove of Joly's techniques.

"That sounds dangerous."

"It's not," Eponine scrapes the last of her rice out of her bowl and stands up. "Joly knows what he's doing."

To Enjolras, it doesn't just sound dangerous, it sounds like a conspiracy in the works. Joly is either feeding her slow-working long-lasting hallucinogenic substances that make her think people are being replaced or giving her medication that stifles her vision so that she isn't able to see as much of what was wrong with what was around her, effectively skewing her perception. "I'm coming with you."

Eponine scowls. "Woah there, crazy cat. I don't think so. This is me and Joly time. Three's a crowd, don't you agree?"

Grantaire butts in again. Enjolras can't decide if he's glad for R's help or hates it. "Eponine, what harm can he do? He's one of us now, remember?"

Eponine purses her lips and stares up at the man who towers before her. "I swear to God, if you mess this up for me," Enjolras holds up his palms outward in a sign of surrender. He doesn't like having to play at being weak, but if that's what gets him places with this girl, it's what he'll do. "Joly's probably not going to let you stay."

"That's fine."

"He's definitely not going to let you watch."

"Okay."

"You'll have to wear a facemask."

"Right."

* * *

In the end, she was only right about the facemask. Enjolras is allowed to sit in the corner and watch Joly poke and prod Eponine with his gloved hands.

"And you believe your sister was replaced or her soul was replaced?" He asks while he checks her throat for any abnormalities.

"It looked like my sister, but it was someone else," she answers when he removes the popsicle stick.

"And at this very moment how do you feel about what you did to her replacement?" Joly asks. It's the most personal question so far.

Enjolras could tell Eponine was struggling with the answer. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times trying to find the right words. "I just want my sister back. It's my fault she's gone. Whoever's replacing people is targeting me. I want to tell her I'm sorry she got caught up it this."

"And you?" The question was directed at Enjolras.

"What about me?"

"I read your file. How do you feel about what you did?"

"Does is matter?" Joly takes off his gloves and puts on another pair.

"May I?" he asks, reaching for Enjolras' neck. With deft cold hand, he feels his lymph nodes and inspects his pupils. "I think you may be eligible to test the medication I'm about to give Eponine. Depending on your answer to the question, that is." Enjolras pulls away.

"What makes you think I want medication?"

"You followed Eponine here. You've seen I'm a knowledgeable physician. My methods are fair and true. I have a few theories about what I can do to help you. The therapies used here by other doctors are archaic at best. The best chance you have at getting better is through me."

"You're only interested in becoming the new face of psychiatric medicine and winning awards for papers based on the results we give you." Enjolras says, ever the cynic.

Joly blushes. "Those things would be nice, yes, but helping people is what I live for."

Eponine nods_. If she believes him_, Enjolras thinks,_ then why shouldn't I?_ She may be insufferable and stubborn, but in his experience, those who don't trust easily place their trust in only those deserving. Then again, he may have earned her trust by feeding it to her in his medicines.

"There's nothing wrong with me to fix," Enjolras says, head lifted, daring anyone to say otherwise.

"If nothing else, this sample will help you think even clearer then. That's what it's designed to do. Awaken your subconscious to find the true meaning in the things you see." Enjolras looks to Eponine and then wonders when he started to rely on her judgement instead of his own. She nods again.

"What does it do exactly?"

"For the first few hours you'll see pretty colors and when that's done you'll be able to think in a more precise and coherent manner."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, I'll do it."

Joly hands both of his patients a little tablet. "You can let it dissolve under your tongue or you can chew and swallow. If you could record what happens to you, I'll collect it when I do my rounds tonight. Then report back to me after breakfast."

Enjolras swallows his right away and stands up. "And if nothing happens?"

"Report that as well."

"Catch ya later Joly," Eponine says, giving him a one armed hug. "Oh, I forgot, is there something you can do for R? He's getting bad again. He asked to be lobotomized today. Said there wasn't any point in going on the way he is."

Joly wrings his hands. "I don't know. I'll try and think of something. I don't want to give him anything I haven't tested extensively." Enjolras wonders why it's okay to test on him and Eponine but not on Grantaire. "Keep an eye on him for me, will you?"

"Aye aye, Cap." Enjolras opens the door for her.

"What now?"

"Now we wait. For science."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so next chapter we get to see Enjolras and Eponine reacting to LSD. Fun times ensue. Barricades will be built. Cosette will be very confused. I CAN'T WAIT!**


	7. Eponine 7

About thirty minutes in, Eponine feels the drug taking effect. She and Enjolras is sitting quietly across from one another in the mess hall. Grantaire iss to her left, half asleep. Around her, patients are jabbering incoherently while nurses take care of them. She pays no mind to anyone but Enjolras. Lights flicker across his face, pieces of it fracturing and breaking off. He drums his fingers lightly on the table, reminding her of a song she knows must have been played at the beginning of time. He says something, but it doesn't register. Abruptly, he stands and shouts something at her. It's too loud. She doesn't like it.

Next, she's on the floor. She doesn't remember getting there, but there she is. Grantaire is screaming now too, but she can't be bothered to pay attention. She looks around. The room is spinning like a kaleidoscope. Enjolras is grabbing at her, and she lets him. Something hits her face. Rice? She touches her cheek, but it feels more like maggots rather than grain. More rice-maggots hit her in the stomach and then she's standing. Enjolras is using a chair as a shield and she's using him. It's not long before they reach the hall. Enjolras starts to push her, but it's slow work. The walls are coming in closer and the ceiling threatens to crush them.

"We need to get to the room." It's the first thing he's said that she can comprehend. The room. Of course. The room. Where is the room? The doors seem to be pulsating between white and dark grey, a few of them sliding away from her the closer she gets. The room theroom theroomtheroom. She's crouching down now, trying to go as quickly as she can, knocking on each door as she goes. Which room is her's? Why won't anyone let her in? She lays down for a moment to regain her composure. It's not real, she tells herself, it's just the medication. The lights are bright and the tile beneath her is hard. She wonders how it is that gravity works and feels as if the world might just open up and swallow her whole. Someone picks her up and makes her stand again. Grantaire. He's saying something angrily but all she can think about is the key he's using to unlock the door she was just lying next to. Enjolras is slumped against the wall breathing heavily, looking around for someone to fight. No one comes of course. All of the patients and nurses are held up back in the cafeteria to take care of the food fight.

"What the hell did you two take?!" R urshes them in ad locks the door, turning angrily to face Eponine. Every move he makes seems to leave behind an aura trail. She reaches out to touch it, only to have R smack her hand away. "Tell me what you're on!" He's been against her taking drugs for a while now. Something about not wanting her to get messed up like him. He's never been this angry about it though.

Behind her, Enjolras is dragging mattresses and dressers and anything that isn't nailed down towards the door. He's frantic and sweaty, begging Eponine and R to join him. "We need to barricade ourselves in! It's the only way they won't find us."

R sits down next to Eponine and moans into his hands. "They're going to blame me for this." Eponine feels sad because he's sad, though she can't really comprehend why.

"Don't cry," she says, patting his knee. The words feels good in her mouth so she repeats them a few more times. Eventually the words lose their meaning and her voice become disembodied. She blinks and suddenly everything's changed. The room is back in order, and she and Enjolras are sitting on a mattress on the far in the of the room. R is leaning against the door, banging the back of his head against it softly and repeatedly. It sounds like someone is knocking.

Fear erupts deep in her stomach._ Someone is knocking._ It must be the government men Enjolras had mentioned last night. Enjolras must think so too, because he grabs on to her arm tightly, nails biting her skin and making her bleed. The blood is nice. The color is pretty. Around her everything seems to be faded, only the blood is vivid. She makes a few scratches below the where he's holding her, allowing more blood to pool up around her wrists. The lines trailing down her arm reminded her of rivers. In fact, the way that two of the streams met up look exactly like pictures of the Tigris and Euphrates. Did she do that? Did she make those rivers? Rivers of blood. She is the one. So singular. She must have been a God at the beginning of time. Where is she now?

Enjolras is looking down at her, hyperventilating. Will he bleed? He can't. She created him. He is her's. She scratches his arm to be sure. He recoils, blood welling in the small surface wound. So is he a God then too? Are she and he rival Gods? Aren't they supposed to fight? She stands and pulls at him.

"HEY!" it was R. He is standing up now too. Is he a God as well? How many are there? There's a loud bang on the door. The knocking. That's how Azelma always knocked. It hadn't been the government men at all, but her sister, Azelma. Her real sister, that is. Not the fake one. She tries to cross the room and open the door, but trips on her own feet, landing hard on the linoleum. R is before her instantly, his face going from dark to light and back again before settling on a bizarre sepia color. Is it night or day? Or is it some sick third stage that rests between the two and will never end? It seemed an eternity before gravity releases her and she is able to sit up, though it must have only been a few seconds. The knocking is gone. R is gone. She's next to Enjolras again. Had any of that even happened? She can't be sure what was real and what is imagined.

Something catches her eye, distracting her once again. Enjolras' hair. It's is like starlight. No, sunshine. It is a halo of perfection. She lays down her head in his lap, staring at his hair, willing it to grow down and meet her outstretched arm. The curly tendrils reach for her fingers, but don't quite touch them. She closes her eyes and feels the sun wrap around her arms, moving inside of her until it consumes her. She is no longer Eponine. She is the sun. She is fire.

Enjolras places his hand across her stomach, nodding his head in time with her heartbeat. She breathes deeply. She could burn him if she wanted to. She blows cool air in his face, startling him. He is scared again, muttering to himself in a language she's never heard. Then R is restraining him, pulling him to his bed and wrapping the sheets around him so that he can't move. R returns once more to Eponine and touches her neck. The whisper of his skin against hers reminds her of the harshness of Enjolras' hands around her neck. On her mouth. Had he just been choking her? How could she forget something so important? She laughs at the sight of him wrapped up like a burrito.

The door opens. It is not a menacing government official, but Joly. He looks from Eponine to Enjolras and tuts. Eponine repeats the noise and laughs.

_Blink._

The room is dark. Something tickles her face. Spiders. She pushes them away. "Where were you?" The darkness asks.

"Away," Eponine responds. The dark can't be trusted with details. It's a few minutes until her eyes adjust, but when they do, she sees Cosette hovering over her.

"You don't look so hot," Cosette says when she's got Eponine's attention.

"I am fire."

Cosette feels Eponine's forehead and shrugs. "You don't feel like you've got a fever."

This triggers a laugh attack. Cosette's face swirls before her, her eyes disappearing entirely. It's all terribly hilarious to the point where Eponine begins to cry from the pain of laughing for so long. "Where's Marius?" Eponine asks, trying to catch her breath. She wants to ask him if she could be a God.

"Father Marius? I imagine he's communing with out Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ about now. God usually speaks to us in our dreams, you know."

Eponine raises her arms, feeling weightless. "I'm a God."

Cosette looks at her doubtfully. "That's blasphemy, friend. You'd better pray for forgiveness."

"I can prove it! I can levitate for you. Right now. Let me show you." Eponine stands up on her bed and closes her eyes, preparing for the jump. Pinwheels of light dance about on the backs of her eyelids. She leaps, landing hard on the floor. She doesn't want to get up. Cosette sits down next to her and plays with Eponine's hair, humming a haunting church hymn while she does so. It reminds her of the song Enjolras was playing. From the beginning of time. It isn't so hard to imagine that she might be an angel right about then. Eponine tells her so.

"Well, I am an angel," Cosette responds matter-of-factly.

"I created you," Eponine whispers, clenching her fists to hold the light of the sun inside herself when it threatens to erupt.

"And I you."

Eponine rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling tiles. Her life is cyclical. She and Cosette have created and destroyed each other from the very beginning. She can remember it all now. Without one, the other wouldn't exist. Everything that has happened in Eponine's life up until this point has been leading her towards Cosette. Suddenly, she doesn't feel so guilty about Azelma. This was all part of the plan. It was supposed to happen, and it will happen again. "I want to go home."

"We'll all go in our turn," Cosette says, meaning heaven.

"I want to go home now."

"I can take you there." She presses her forehead to Eponine's, reciting the Ave Maria. Time skips forward one last time for Eponine.

It's morning now, and the sun is streaming through the bulletproof glass of her window. Her body aches from lying on the cold hard ground all night. Cosette is awake as well and is staring at Eponine from across the room. "Sorry it didn't work out last night," she says. Last night. Oh yes, last night. What happened last night? And why does she feel a growing fondness for her psychotic roommate? Eponine stands up, holding her head. Last night. Enjolras. R. She thinks Azelma might have been there too. None of it ended up getting recorded the way Joly had asked. All she's left with is a stale sick feeling in the bottom of her stomach and the desire to eat an entire vat of rice. Whatever Joly gave her, it was shit.

**A/N: A huge thanks to my wonderful beta-reader, Zmori, for putting up with me and my awful ideas for chapters! I'm sorry this one wasn't better! I'll have the next one out quickly to make up for how disappointing this was! :( XOXO**


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